The Bounties on His Head (JohnLock AU)

Stay With Me

A/N Hey My Lovelies!!! So....Finally another chapter!!! Sorry this one is taking so long!! Not really sure why...just bare with me guys...it's coming...slowly but surely...To make up for it I will make at least one chapter smutty...not this one...but another one...promise...anyways...here we go!! Enjoy<3

Sherlock kept his head down as John dragged him out of the chair he had been sitting in.

"Who the fuck keeps shooting at you?" John snapped, pulling Sherlock out of the line of fire.

"What makes you think they're shooting at me?"

"Why the fuck would they be after me?"

"Oh, I don't know, you're a fucking Bounty Hunter! That might have something to do with it!" John growled at him, looking around for something, a weapon probably.

"You're smart, what are the odds of that?"

"I don't know, I would have to do extensive research into your arrest record-" A hand clapped over his mouth and John's face was suddenly very close, and Sherlock became incredibly aware of how good the older man smelled. God damn it, control yourself Sherlock!

"Now is not the time Kid." He growled and Sherlock nodded, his stomach a mess of knots. "Now, shut up, stay still, and do as I say, got it?" Sherlock nodded, feeling a pang of regret when John's hand left his mouth. He knew it wasn't logical, that he wasn't really attracted to John. It was a simple case of Transference. That knowledge didn't stop his body from wanting the other man. "We're unarmed! Stop shooting, and we'll come peacefully!"

"What! Are you fuck-" The hand clapped back over his mouth painfully and he flinched as John growled in his ear again.

"I said, shut up. You're going to get us both killed. Now, stop fucking talking, or I'll kill you myself." Sherlock whimpered and nodded, fighting the urge to lean against the older man once he pulled away.

The gunfire fell silent, and John shuffled closer to the door, peaking around the corner.

"Sherlock!" An eerily smooth, haunting voice filled the abandoned hospital, sending white-hot panic through Sherlock's body. He gripped John's shirt, hauling the man back and away from the door. "Come out and play Baby."

"What the-"

"We have to get out of here, now." Sherlock hissed, the chill in his blood no longer caused by his body slipping into shock.

"That's what we're going to do-"

"No, you don't understand-"

"Sherlock! This little game has been fun, but Daddy's had enough now!" The voice was closer now and Sherlock felt his chest constricting. He scanned the room, trying to find a way out. "Sherlock!" He could feel his body starting to try to obey the command, that broken part of him that killed Moran needing to obey the man that nearly killed him.

"Who is this guy?" John asked, but his voice was lost in the thudding that echoed through Sherlock's head.

Drugs, he needed drugs, that would stop the pounding.

"How long has it been for you Baby? I have some here, I'll share if you and your friend come out." Pain blossomed in Sherlock's jaw, drawing him out of his mind with a loud whine. John was gripping his shoulders too-tightly and shaking him. What the-

"Don't even think about it Kid. Stay with me. If we make it out of here, I make sure you get something to help, but for now, just stay awake, got it?" John, he will help me. Sherlock nodded, clinging to the Hunter's jumper, fighting to stay conscious.

John pulled out a cell phone, tapping the screen hurriedly before bringing it to his ear.

"Where are you? No, now! I got six blokes with AK-47's trying to blast holes through us and only one bloody window. Hurry!" John rang off and turned back to Sherlock, gripping his chin roughly and forcing his eyes to meet his. "Stay with me Kid, just a few more seconds, I promise."

The air was filled with more bullets flying and people shouting as Sherlock lost the battle o stay conscious.

John cursed as the boy went limp in his arms, just in time for his team to arrive. He covered the kid with his own body as the air was filled with bullets and shouts, waiting for his signal to run.

A big, burly man appeared in the door way, grinning down darkly at John and his charge as he leveled his gun at them.

Blood coated John's face as a massive hole was ripped through the man's chest and he collapsed before them, revealing a tiny woman, armed with a massive shotgun.

"Mouse!" John grinned, blinking blood out of his eyes as she helped him to his feet. "About fucking time."

"Sod off! You gave us three minutes warning. He hit?"

"No, but I need to get him to Mikey ASAP." Mouse nodded grimly and helped John haul the unconscious boy over his shoulder. Christ, do his legs ever end? They made their way out of the room and into the black van parked just outside, Mouse still shooting at their attackers as they walked.

As soon as John was safely in the van, the rest of his team piled in, two hanging out of the windows, continuing to fire as they pulled away.

Less than an hour later, John was pushing open the door to his friend Mikey's private clinic, Sherlock barely breathing in his arms.

"John? What the fuck?"

"No time Mikey, I need you to help this kid now."

"What's wrong?"

"Coming off something, Heroin I think."

"When did he lose consciousness?"

"About an hour ago." Mikey directed John to drop the boy on one of the exam tables and dismissed his assistant, shutting down the clinic, before tossing him a jacket and pair of gloves. "You still got that miracle stuff?"

"It might not work John-"

"We've got to try." Mikey nodded grimly and disappeared into the back room, leaving John with the unconscious boy. He tugged the kid's t-shirt and trousers off, fighting with his endless limbs, and arranging his limp form on the table. He was far too tall for the table, but they didn't have time to get him to a hotel.

What the hell did I get myself into here?